


Gone Too Soon

by Greenspoons



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 12:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13031430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenspoons/pseuds/Greenspoons
Summary: Clarice mourns Sonia's unexpected death.





	Gone Too Soon

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no fan of Sonia, but I think she deserves this one fic.

_"Don't do what he—"_

It all happens in the blink of an eye, and coming from her, that's a major understatement. Because as much as getting from point A to B doesn't get any faster than what she can do, this takes less than half the time.

She supposes that she doesn't think he would really fire it. None of them did. Or maybe they hoped he wouldn't.

They didn’t want to think that Campbell pulling back the hammer was anything besides mere theatrical effect to enunciate his point.

That was until he fires the gun, a harsh sound resounding off the scientific apparatus occupying the space and Sonia drops to the floor in a crumpled heap. Her lifeless body on the cold, sterile floor, as if she deserved to die for whatever sick experiments he had in mind for the siblings.

As Sonia stares at the ceiling from behind empty eyes, she sees the final wisps of the pink smoke leaving her lips and knows that the one friend she had in this place was gone.

She hears her own scream, animalistic as it calls out Sonia's name and the fingers digging into her arms to hold her back from the terrible scene before her. Clarice wants to crawl over, hold the dead woman in her arms because it’s really the only thing she can do.

What she'd said to Sonia back in their cells seemed so stupid, so naive and so hopeful that she wants to blame herself for the death. Perhaps things could have turned out differently is she didn't tell her that it's okay to not lose hope, to believe that things could get better. 

Clarice doesn't see how it could be anymore.

So it worked the last time and she managed to get out from the Mutant Detention Center, but that was probably a one-off. She'd never really thought that luck had anything to do with her escape but in hindsight, it seems that she couldn't rule it out either. 

Having Dreamer poke around in her memories had been such a big deal back when she found out, but now it seemed so trivial. She had been so wrapped up in her anger that she didn't want to put herself in Sonia's shoes.

The only thing she had wanted to feel then was that she had every right to feel betrayed and exploited by the very people she called teammates. It had hurt for her to think that it was done to her by those who she had slowly begun to think of as family even if she wouldn't admit it aloud. 

At this very moment, the violation of her mind pales in comparison to Sonia being dead and she wishes that she had put up a fight during the after. She should have at least tried to take a swipe to wipe off that smug look of that sick bastard’s deformed face. 

Or punched his minions real hard in the one place it will truly hurt. 

But she did none of it, and regret wounds itself around her heart like a python squeezing the life out of her. 

The old Clarice, the one who had run away from the one place she felt truly safe wouldn’t have thought she would come to care so much for Sonia. In the past week alone, she had learned more about Sonia and gotten to know her better than she thought she ever could. 

Clarice knows just how long it had been since Sonia’s had good tequila to drink, and how much she enjoys watching Old Hollywood movies. For all her perfect blowout-worthy hair or her enviable hourglass shape, Sonia is only human, just like her. And heck, Clarice even went on to ask her for a favor.

There had been zero doubt in her mind that Dreamer would agree to do it, and had no qualms about making Sonia do her bidding. So she took it. 

What Clarice had asked of her was exactly what Dreamer had done to her because of how much John meant to her. If her own justification of doing what she thought was best for Norah could hold, shouldn't it be good enough to excuse what Sonia did to her because the man she love was in real danger and she couldn't just watch her team take a hit? 

She was no better than Sonia and in no place to call the kettle black. 

_I'm sorry Sonia. I hope your spirit finds peace._

_I swear they will all pay for this. I'll make sure of it. And when we do, I hope you can witness it from the stars._

Her fist pounds relentlessly on the glass with all her pent-up emotion as if doing that could bring her back. Or at least summon her restless spirit so Clarice could tell her to blame it all on her. 

She also desperately needs to say adieu to a dear friend who had been shot right in front of her eyes. 

Clarice knows she isn't the only one who is mourning for Sonia, and she tries to take solace in that knowledge. 

It's all she has to go on in a wretched place like this.  

A tear tickles her cheek, and it doesn’t take long before more tears fall. She lets it streak down her face as she drops to the floor, palms pressed against her eyelids to stem the tears flooding her eyes. Then she practically sobs in a gut-wrenching sound as a tremor rocks her body.

No one is around to hear her anyway.

She thinks about Lauren, Andy and herself, and about the bleakness of their situation. Sonia is right.

Impossible is the only word that comes to mind. 

As if it isn’t bad enough, the taste of freedom that they all expect is promptly quashed by the peculiar sight of three identical blondes.

“Time to go, boys and girls. The fun’s just starting.” The silken voices say in unison.

Clarice tries to think of an explanation for their predicament and the only explanation that makes sense sends a chill down her spine. This three-in-one Esme is frankly downright freaky. She feels the skittering of something akin to fear on her skin and tries to tamp it down. 

This has been the latest mutant addition’s endgame all along, and they had all been too blinded by her telepathic abilities to see that her timing had been much too damn convenient.   

Esme Cuckoo is the cuckoo in the Mutant Underground’s nest.

 


End file.
